one eighty turn
by gokult
Summary: And maybe it's because she's such an ass to protect that she gets the biggest ass of a bodyguard. And dammit all, there was absolutely, definitely not any sexual tension between her and that bastard. AU. Fem!Tsuna


_summary: _And maybe it's because she's such an ass to protect that she gets the biggest ass of a bodyguard. And dammit all, there was absolutely, definitely not any sexual tension between her and that bastard. AU. Fem!Tsuna

[—_one-eighty turn_—]

She sprinted down the hallway, feeling tempted to scream bloody murder. Because honestly, this was just— enough is _enough, _because she was only what, fifteen?— and all, all of these, these _people _chasing after her was just—

— and was he still serenading her? She shuddered as she whipped out her keys, pleading to the heavens above to prevent her clumsiness to suddenly make a surprise appearance to trip her and conveniently place her in the clutches of her incredibly psychopathic and creepy-ass pursuers.

But alas, fate is not kind— fate, you _bitch!_— and she tripped (over air), and like a cliché shoujo manga, she fell into strong arms with too much cologne. Except, it wasn't as elegant or nice, there were no sparkles, and she really didn't get to see his face. And, wow, she _really _hoped that it hadn't hurt _too _much when she decided to do a sudden faceplant into his crotch.

And then again, even if that _didn't_ hurt, hopefully he didn't mind her shrieking loudly and turning so red that she was in serious danger of her head being blown off.

She couldn't even look up to stare at her somewhat savior because of all the screams of horror as her pursuers came upon her. Or, to be more specific, her— she always choked on this word— _suitors._

Suddenly she was being tugged upwards, and she managed to see a fedora and weird curly sideburns— like really, they were a bit creepy— and she heard the guy growl a couple of words in Italian, his voice occasionally switching to Japanese, and she shuddered at the voice because he sounded incredibly scary and frightening and—

— and why wasn't he letting go of her yet? She squirmed, feeling uncomfortable. She felt all stiff— skin to skin contact was a big no-no in her book— and she was just much, much too close to this guy _and _his cologne smelled really gross.

She was then being dragged towards her apartment, and she heard the saddened shrieks of her— she shivered— _lovers, _and she felt them chucking boxes and rings and flowers and letters and— wow was that a wine bottle?— and she couldn't help but feel surprised at how they could completely ignore the murderous glare the man was currently shooting them. She could practically feel his irritation seep out of him.

(That guy was still singing, by the way.)

And it all ended as they _both _entered _her _apartment. Please duly note the _plural _implications of the first word, and the obviously _singular _implications of the second.

Was there a problem? _Yes, dammit._

Which now led her to her current predicament.

Well, fuck.

[_i. reborn._]

_So, what the hell do you do when a tall, dark, possibly violent stranger is in your apartment with you and you're all alone?_

She was still stiff as he promptly let go of her and landed on her couch, pulling on his fedora to cover his face.

Silence.

Like, not even a comfortable silence, or a semi-okay silence wherein two strangers meet and don't talk because they can't.

It was gross and heavy and _awkward. _And this creep was just sleeping on her couch. (And hey, was that _her _espresso in _her _mug on _her _table?)

Fan-fucking-tastic.

And so, she did the only reasonable thing she thought she could do.

She grabbed a towel rod— she doesn't want to kill him, dammit!— and hesitantly asked, "Who the hell are you, why are you in my apartment, thanks for saving me earlier from a pack of psychos who just got out of the mental ward, and please kindly park your ass out of my apartment?"

Or, really, it was more of a statement than anything else. But she figured he'll interpret it however he'd like anyway.

She swore that he smirked, and the temperature in her room dropped like one-hundred degrees. She was getting chills.

On second thought, perhaps she did like her crazy-ass suitors on her tail rather than this, this— _person. _

Seeing as how he was most definitely _not _moving anywhere, she did the second most reasonable thing she could do.

"Hello, hotel security, there is a creepy-ass pedophile in my room—!"

Her phone was promptly shot at and shattered to the floor.

"_HIEEEEEEE!" _she shrieked, backpedaling into the nearby wall. She started to hyperventilate as he came closer and closer.

He crouched down to her level— he was pretty tall—and slowly lifted his fedora. She stared at him. Angular face, sharp, dark eyes, and weird-ass side burns— besides that, he was pretty well-dressed and—

— _he had a gun. _

She shifted her glance from the gun to her phone, her head bobbing as the pattern continued. He watched her like she was some kind of, some kind of vulnerable _prey_— which she was _not— _

— and she was then stopped with a smack of the head. "You look stupid."

She stared back at him. Honestly, she could have chosen so many words— any words, really, just to placate him or _something_— but she's never been good with people and he was just _much too close into her personal bubble, _and she's just the type of person to blurt out what she thinks without much thought for the consequences.

"Your breath stinks."

;_;

She was currently nursing about eight head wounds in the past ten minutes she's met him.

"So let me get this straight," she said slowly. "You're m-my _b-bodyguard, _because I'm too big of a pain in the ass for anybody else to handle it?"

Before he can even do anything, she threw her hands into the air. "I'm perfectly fine on my own! This hotel is already a complete _nightmare _to get in _and _out of, and the only danger I'm in is my suitors because, for some reason, the police don't arrest people for breaking and entering into apartments to propose for the _thirty-second time._" Damn romantics.

"And you have to _live _with me? How old are you? This is surely a case of pedophilia!" she nearly screamed, tugging on her bangs. Before he could even reply, she continued to ramble.

"Plus, you're _really scary_ and you get in my personal space way too much and you hit me and you kick me and seriously I don't need a bodyguard because absolutely _nothing has happened _and—"

She was kindly cut off by another round-house kick to the face.

She then elegantly (there's sarcasm in there somewhere) fell on her face.

"You talk too much."

"You talk too _little_," she retorted, albeit shrinking back at him. _"Hieeeee, this is my point! We can't do this!" _

He paused, crossing his legs as he stared at her. She fidgeted under his gaze. "First, correct, I am your bodyguard. Second, yes, you are a complete pain in the ass to take care of, Miss Sawada Tsunayoshi. I have observed you for the past month, and you have tripped a total of three hundred and twelve times, been nearly attacked by an innumerable amount of lolicons, and you've had your skirt flipped a total of two hundred and fifty. Should I even begin to mention the number of near-case kidnappings?"

Her eyes darkened for a few seconds, and she pursed her lips. "You're incredibly oblivious to your surroundings and lack any sort of observational skills, period. Your suitors are dangerous— they could take advantage of or deflower you, you "preciously sweet angelic tuna-fish"— or so your over-protective father says."

Needless to say, she choked on the "angelic tuna-fish".

"My job requirements are to live with you." He picked up his cup of espresso— _her espresso— _and sipped on it. "… I'm seventeen."

Shame he wasn't older. She's _positive _the police would have at least listened to a creepy pedophilia case. ("Hello, police? A tall, dark, mysterious stranger has decided to park his ass inside of my apartment building and is armed with a gun and may take advantage of me!")

She opened her mouth to ramble some more— he stopped her. "You're the daughter of the Ninth Boss of the Vongola family, the most influential and dangerous mafia family in all of Italy, and quite possibly, the world. What the hell were you expecting?"

She slumped onto the couch next to him. "I think you're an ass." She has a terrible habit of insulting people when she's utterly terrified.

He smacked her again.

She scooted away from him. "You don't… really seem like the type to do this stuff," she said warily. "You seem too… bad-ass to just guard some wimpy girl. So why?"

He stared at her. "Your father's puppy-dog eyes are a bitch to ignore," he said curtly. His lips curled slightly. "And I'm the number-one hi— bodyguard. It's only natural I take on a job that has been black-listed as being the most difficult job out there."

She pouted. "I'm not _that _hard to take care of." She had to agree on the puppy-dog eyes part though.

"You're so incredibly accident-prone that you trip on absolutely nothing at least ten times a day. You have the observational skills of a brick. You tried to use a towel rod to defend yourself about fifteen minutes ago."

"Ass."

He smacked her (again).

She rubbed her head, groaning a little. She snatched up his espresso cup, still completely not okay with the situation.

But he _had _saved her from the pack of wolves that were her so-called lovers _and _he hadn't killed her for doing a face-plant into his crotch.

She figured she owed him something.

She paused, shifting her feet a bit. She fingered the mug again. She can't communicate with people very well, and this guy was well, as she has said before, an ass—

He smacked her (again).

She's positive she's starting to see a pattern forming.

"_HIEEE, _I didn't even say it out loud this time!" she shrieked fearfully, eyes wide. He tilted his fedora, allowing only his smirk to peek through.

"I'm the number-one bodyguard."

"How does that justify _anything?"_

He ignored her, choosing instead to scrutinize her. Skinny, small, and fluffy brown hair that reached to her back— an all-around normal girl that was completely inelegant and looked nothing like the daughter of a mafia boss. She lacked communications skills and was rather withdrawn, toying with the hem of her over-sized hoodie while she muttered to herself.

He watched her shift from place to place. Watched her furrowed brows, her big eyes dart from place to place (never looking at him), watched her simply be _awkward—_

"Reborn."

She stared at him.

"U-um—"

"It's my name," he interjected tersely.

She found it incredibly weird and _what was he psychic— _"Stop – doing— _that,_" she muttered as she shuffled off to the kitchen. She returned moments later and set the cup back on the table.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi," she said carefully. She felt like shrieking blood murder, honestly, but she had the distinct feeling that he'd probably kick her again— or he'd do it regardless, really— and he nodded.

"… this espresso is terrible."

He smacked her before she could even think the word "ass".

* * *

(a/n): aklsjdafieroja I completely adore this pairing and I'm half delirious because it's nearly five AM and akldjsfaoewijr I-I have no idea on what to say about this. Honestly, I think I'll have fun with it... expect some of my weird head canons to pop up pretty much everywhere and since this is an AU, their personalities will be tweaked a bit. Hopefully they're still... recognizable. I'm really sorry if they come off as incredibly OOC sob I just cannot. I'm not used to characterizing KHR characters OTL;;;;; I'll get better... in the future.

(Um, possibly.)

This is pretty much just the prologue on how they met and an example on how I'm going to completely troll on their relationship and think up as many witty comments as humanely possible. (I'm not witty lol sob.) The language in here is pretty uh crude, I suppose. I don't curse myself, but it seemed more befitting of the story if I made them curse (being in the mafia and all!) so... it's justified?

Just some notes to clear things up!  
- Tsuna is fifteen, Reborn is seventeen.  
- Tsuna insults people when she's terrified. It's a reflex reaction. Otherwise, she insults them _internally. _  
- uhh... Reborn's an ass?

There's not... much to clear up in this chapter! It's only a prologue after all...! Anything you find unexplained will be explained should be explained in later chapters. It should get better later on. I have plans on going somewhere with this and character development and plot and relationships and KJLASIEJROAWERAKLDF everything! I'm looking forward to this too much... (sadist alert /shot)  
The title is uh, confusing for now, but hopefully it'll become an understandable title... later... idek but it's a bad title. orz;; derp.  
Anyway, I would really appreciate it if you could tell me what you think? This is my first time writing for this fandom, and I-I have no idea on how this was or not l-lol. I appreciate anything you say, and constructive criticism is so welcomed with open arms just.  
(OKAY I'LL LEAVE THIS IS SO OBNOXIOUSLY LONG OMG sorry.)

_-gokult_  
(7/29/12)


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